


The Guitar

by Denstort



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3111869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denstort/pseuds/Denstort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other love of Matthew Bellamy's life..................</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guitar

Matthew James Bellamy walked along the high street; he wasn’t interested in the shops…well, only one. He didn’t stop until he came to it….the Manson shop.

And there it was…The Guitar, the one that was calling his name. Oh how he wanted that guitar, wanted to run his hands over the polished wood. He dreamed of the sound that guitar would make; the sounds he would make with it.

He sighed, it would never be his. He was just a skinny thirteen year old kid, living with his Nan and just enough money to live. Oh, he had a guitar, but that guitar…oh how he wanted that guitar to be his.

He turned away and trudged into school, where he should have been an hour ago. No doubt he would get another late mark; not that cared. 

He really didn’t like school, most of the subjects were boring, and his teachers hated him.

It didn’t help that he had a smart mouth and didn’t know when to keep it shut.

The only teacher that seemed to like him and not just tolerate him was Miss Bird, the music teacher. It was the only time he enjoyed school, when he could be lost in his music.

Then he’d met Dominic Howard and Christopher Wolstenholme, two souls who loved music as much as he did…and MUSE was born.

Soon life became a whirlwind of music, studios, recording and touring. But every time they came home, he would stand outside Manson’s window, looking at the guitar.

Yes, he was in a band and yes, they had made some money. But he didn’t feel secure enough to buy it, and gave the money that he’d earned to his Nan and his Mum.

Five years, then ten years went by, and still that guitar sat in the window, still calling his name.

Yes, he had the money to buy a dozen guitars…but still he couldn’t gather the courage to in and buy that guitar, afraid that it would crumble to ash in his hands.

***********************

Now it was 2014 and in the year’s in-between, the band had scaled spectacular heights, and he’d designed beautiful guitars…but not like that guitar.

His personal life had been a roller-coaster, and he finally realised that life could pass you by, if you let it. So he came to a momentous decision; he was going to buy that guitar….now he felt secure enough to afford it.

He strode down the high street, ignoring the looks that he got, his heart racing. It was silly, really, it was just a guitar…but it was a guitar that had stolen a thirteen year old boy’s heart. 

He could see the shop up ahead and he tried to calm his nerves. He stopped but when he looked up, his heart stopped….it was gone…no.

He stepped into the shop and was greeted by one of the staff.

“The guitar, the acoustic one in the window.”

“You mean the first one that Hugh made?”

“Yeah, been there for twenty years.”

“I’m sorry, Mister Bellamy, but someone brought it yesterday. Can I interest you in one of the other acoustics?”

He shook his head, “No, thank you, it was that guitar I wanted.”

He sighed and walked out of the shop…too late.

********************

“Why so glum?” Dom asked.

Matt said nothing, but sighed again.

“Something’s definitely up…so spill.”

He sighed again, “You know that guitar?”

“The one you’ve been dreaming about since you were thirteen?”

“Yeah, well I finally got the balls to go and buy it.”

“Cool,” Dom said.

“No, not cool. Someone else brought it. I was a day too late.”

Dom put a hand on his shoulder.

“That sucks, but hey, it’s your birthday, big party tonight.”

“Yeah.”

**********************

The party was in full swing, but somehow he didn’t feel like being part of it, even if it was his birthday party. There had been plenty of presents, nice ones, at that, but his mind was on that guitar.

The music suddenly died…dear god, were they going to sing Happy Birthday.

He started when a spotlight was shone him and he sank lower into his chair...talk about rabbit and headlight. Then he heard someone   
tapping the mike…no, not going to give a speech.

Then he heard Dom’s voice.

“I know Mattie boy has gotten shit loads of pressies, but there’s one present from me, Chris and Tom he hasn’t gotten yet.

Another spotlight illuminated Tom, who was holding a large parcel, wrapped in red glittery paper. He tried to sink lower, but there was no escaping.

“But we won’t embarrass him by making him open it now. But I am going to embarrass him by signing Happy Birthday.”

He let out a groan and tried to close his ears as Dom murdered the song.

********************

Several hours later, the party had finished and only the band and Tom where left.

Matt eyed the large parcel warily; he’d been on the wrong end of their ‘presents’ before.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a joke present,” Chris said.

“Just open it,” Dom said.

He sighed and ripped the paper off. It was a case, and it had the initials M.J.B in gold letters on the top.

But it was the inscription that made him blink.

“Sometimes you have to do more than just dream.”

He undid the two catches and opened the case. His eyes widened and then filled with tears.

It was The Guitar.

“Happy Birthday, Matt,” his three best friends said together.


End file.
